


keep me close.

by fatalgods



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Akechi Goro Lives, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Morning Cuddles, Panic Attacks, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-12
Updated: 2019-02-12
Packaged: 2019-10-26 16:04:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17749046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fatalgods/pseuds/fatalgods
Summary: Goro wakes to falling rain and an empty bed.





	keep me close.

The bed is empty when he wakes up.

At first, it startles him, stretching out an open palm, trying to grasp for warmth. Lids crack open as red eyes search for another, blinking to try to get sleep out from his eyes. His limbs feel heavy beneath the worn wool comforter pressing against bare skin. 

A loud crack echoes from outside, rumbling deep. Goro rolls over to look out the window, only to see gray skies. Raindrops tap, tap, and tap against glass, running and dripping down and out of sight. It’s pouring again.

He is warm, comfortable. Almost enough to fall back under. He could stay like this for just a bit longer. Just a bit.

It’d be better with him, he thinks. His mind is heavy, but he still remembers the other’s touch. It’s almost hard to believe where he’s gotten now, memory of the past like a haze, another dream. He finds himself fading in and out of with every minute. It’s illusory, almost something storybook. He lets his world go dark again, his fingers tighten into the sheets over the hollow space beside him. 

He’s thankful, but he isn’t indebted. Black hair, red gloves, soft lips, gentle hands. Goro knows he is not porcelain, but he doesn’t mind that treatment sometimes from Ren. 

Their first kiss — years ago, in the dark of a musty attic, betrayal and end looming, neglected and ignored. He had never sat on his bed before, or been up there without the others, who yell and snack and act like everything might be okay. Then and there, it was just them. 

And he is sure Ren knew already, yet still wound his tan hands into his locks, so tender. Like he was made of spider’s thread. Glasses were tinted orange, a streetlight across bright enough to warm through the thick acrylic windows. His lips looked like a sunset, he recalls. A gentle murmur, a confession, an apology. He holds Goro like he might shatter at any moment. Foreheads meet. _It doesn’t feel real._

His lips are like heaven — unpracticed, innocent, but they are full of everything he could not say. He tasted like love, and sorrow, and hurt. Promises of a better tomorrow, a different time, it blurs into nothing. It’s different now. It’s better, but it’s different.

Thinking of the ugly, the dirty, the shame, it’s different now — _it’s better_. He can’t forgive himself.

He feels like crying suddenly. Alone. His body sinks into the mattress, deeper and deeper till he’s falling through. He’s tired again. So so so tired. Goro Akechi does not deserve to be here. He doesn’t. Suddenly the covers weigh too much, they’re heavy, he’s suffocating. He knows his mind doesn’t make sense, that it lies, that he hurts, he gets too caught up in the pain that is false, but it’s hard. He loves Ren. 

Ren. 

“Hey.” Ceramic against a bedside table clinks. It smells like old times, hot curry, just one more match of chess on a school night. “I made you a cup. House blend.”

Goro doesn’t move. He would like to, maybe someday — perhaps get up, perhaps move on. His head hurts. 

There’s no words spoken. The bed squeaks, and heat fills the void beside his cold and frozen body. His back is to him, Goro cannot see his face. Thick covers get pushed off, the thin liner pulled up and above them both, encapsulating them in a bubble of just one another. 

Delicate hands, so soft, so sweet — _like spoonfuls of sugar in his coffee_ — wrap around his waist. Despite the touch being featherlight, trying so hard to not be too much, it flies through Goro’s body, shaking him to his core. His fingers dance, tip-toe along his ribs. He can feel the other’s body rest against his own, no gap between. Soft and freshly washed curls press into his neck, lips ghost on his shoulder blades. He feels loved. and then —

“Hey. Goro — it’s okay.” 

The sob finally comes out. It always does. He really isn’t that great of a liar, least to those who can see right through that.

He turns over and buries his face in the other’s chest. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” He chokes on his own tears once more — _we’ve already been here._ He knows he shouldn’t be apologizing, he knows it is wrong. 

Yet Goro lets himself indulge, and lets himself have _just one okay thing_ — his arms reach out to hold on to something, _anything_ , hands clenching whatever they can grasp onto, allwos his sorrows out and be caught by someone who is there. It’s even better when an embrace is returned, a palm on his own curve of his back, hands threaded into chestnut locks and kisses peppered across a red, tear-stained face. 

“You’re okay, you’re okay, you’re okay…” His voice, Ren’s voice. _It’s nice_ , he thinks.

Goro isn’t sure how long they’ve been there. It’s an out-of-body experience after some time; he is shaking, crying, _not even sure why in the first place_ — Ren holds him, kisses him, whispers promises of safety and love. _I love you, I love you._ It’s both their voices. 

_Ah, it’s deja vu. It’s you._

The rain sounds like it is falling harder. 

_It’s always you._

 

 

 

 

 

 

“The coffee’s gone cold now,” He comments, propping himself up against the headboard of the bed and taking a delicate sip. Ren stays curled next to him, like some sort of curious kitten as he stares up intently to study Goro’s reaction to his craft. “It’s still delicious.” He takes a longer sip, and observes his surroundings for the first time today. Their bedroom is a mess, pillow squashed and stretched, heavy comforter falling off the edge of the mattress and sinking to the ground and sheets tangled and twisted. 

“Sojiro gave me ‘em for my birthday. Said we’d both like this blend.”

“I doubt we’re drinking the same thing.” Ren likes his coffee black. 

“I’m pretty sure all the sugar I put in yours has sunk to the bottom by now, it’ll be anything but strong.” Goro prefers his coffee sweet and milky. 

The sweeter from the corner store Goro favors is sickly saccharine when it hits his tongue, but not unpleasant. It’s cheap, but honest — real. 

He places the now empty mug back on the nightstand and curls up right next to the other. Ren is warm, as usual, and he nuzzles right into the crook of his neck. An arm laces itself around his back. He doesn’t want to get up. 

“I don’t wanna get out of bed today.” He confesses, tracing shapes with cold fingertips into collarbone. The rain drums on. 

“We can stay here longer if you’d like,” the other replies. “We don’t have to be anywhere anytime soon.” 

“Okay.”

There is silence. 

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really.”

The embrace tightens. “Alright.”

A beat.

“I love you, Goro. I don’t always know what’s going in your head, and you don’t always know what’s going on in mine. But we’re okay. I’m okay. You are okay.”

_His heart is loud._

“We’ll be okay.” A kiss is on his forehead,gentle hands interwoven with his hair again. 

_Ah._

“I love you too.”

_We’ll be okay._ He thinks. He closes his eyes and listens to Ren’s heartbeat as it syncs with the pitter-patter of a storm.

 

 

 

 

_It’ll be okay._

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> you know how sometimes when you wake up and you get randomly really sad and cry for like a very random reason? yeah. that's what happened to goro
> 
> im sorry if this is hard to follow at all, i like to write in this kind of frantic, half-baked thought process way... i wrote this all in one go and had a friend proof the grammar, but i hope you enjoy!
> 
>  
> 
> [my twitter is @fatal_gods, follow me for fun arts and rambles](https://twitter.com/fatal_gods)


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